Love and War
by DragonLady37
Summary: Wand in hand, Hermione pressed the tip to the center of the mark. Draco watched her, face devoid of color, muscles stiff. She looked right into his eyes and was surprised to see that within their silvery depths were little flecks of dark blue. She took a deep breath and said, "Novis morsmordre. Delens." Draco gasped once, eyes wide. / Dramione, EWE, War Fic
1. Chapter 1

**A little fic that's been swimming around in my head for a few days. It's totally unedited, but life is busy, and if I don't post now, it might be a while! Next chapter hopefully coming in the next few days. If you like it, please favorite, follow, and review! **

**JK Rowling owns all. **

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Unnaturally cold rain pelted Hermione as she ran from the relative safety of the Forbidden Forest. She ducked, heart racing, skin tingling with the proximity of the curse as she became a target. All around, members of the Order, Hogwarts students, and Death Eaters battled. All around, streams of light shot from wands - deep purple, vibrant red, brilliant blue, bright white, golden yellow, deadly green. All around, people screamed, people ran, people fell.

Hermione was a prime target. In the forest, she'd been relatively safe, but now, multiple Death Eater wands turned on her. She knew it was a risk darting out into the open, but she had to get to Harry and Ron. She had to get back to the castle. She had to get back.

She ducked another close shot, aware that many Death Eaters were leaving their private battles so they could chase after her. She looked up. The castle was so far away. She wasn't going to make it.

In a moment of stupid Gryffindor bravery, she ducked and rolled, coming up on her feet a yard or so away, and began casting hexes and curses into the mix of black-robed figures.

"Bombarda maxima! Confringo! Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!" She cast as quickly as she could, putting all of her magic behind it. And then -

Hermione was blasted backward by a bombarda maxima that hit the ground right at her feet. She landed on her back, the air knocked from her lungs, and it felt as if a few ribs may be broken. She needed to move. Needed to get back up. Needed to -

A black-robed person was there, above her. She couldn't see who it was, but they looked down at her and fear lanced through her body. Then, the black-robed person cast a shield charm. "Protego maxima!"

She knew that voice. She would know it anywhere. She would recognize it for the rest of her days.

"Malfoy?" she whispered.

Without a word, he ripped his mask from his face and tossed it aside. He had cuts on his face and his lip was split. And he was looking at her in a wild panic.

"Granger, we have to move!" Around them, his shield waivered as spell after spell hit it. "Now!"

She hesitated for only half a breath, and then she was up. He grabbed her hand and twisted, disapparating them away from the carnage.

They landed roughly on the other side of the Black Lake. Malfoy let go of her hand and ripped the black Death Eater robes from his body, then gripped his left arm to his stomach as if it were injured.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione took a step toward him, still not sure what was going on, but he took a step back.

"You need to get out of here, Granger." He winced and fell to his knees, still gripping his arm. "They're going to come after me."

"What's going on?" she asked, falling to her knees in front of him. He looked away, but she wasn't having it. If people were coming, they needed to act quickly. "Malfoy!" she yelled, grabbing his shoulders.

He looked up at her, eyes wild, then moaned in agony as he folded over his arm.

Without preamble, Hermione jerked his arm toward her and shoved his sleeve up. There stood his Dark Mark, inky black and pulsing, the skin all around the mark red and swollen. He tried to jerk his arm back, but she wasn't having it.

Wand in hand, Hermione pressed the tip to the center of the mark. Draco watched her, face devoid of color, muscles stiff. She looked right into his eyes and was surprised to see that within their silvery depths were little flecks of dark blue. She took a deep breath and said, "Novis morsmordre. Delens."

Draco gasped once, eyes wide. From the point where Hermione's wand pressed into his skin, the Dark Mark slowly faded away until the skin beneath was pale and unblemished as if the mark had never been there.

"What did you - " he breathed. He looked into her eyes with an unreadable expression. "Granger, what did you do?"

"I'm sorry." She released his arm, eyes wide. "It was hurting you. I thought - "

Malfoy lunged at her. His big, warm hands cupped her cheeks and he pressed his lips to hers. She could feel the split in his lip. Could feel his hint of stubble. She was so shocked, all she could do was stare at him, and then he was pulling away, his hands still on her face.

"Thank you." His breath puffed over her lips and she found it was difficult to breathe. "But we're stuck now. That was the only way I could apparate through the wards they've placed."

"Tell me what's going on," Hermione said, gripping his wrists. "You saved me." She tightened her grip. "Why? What's going on?" Her voice was a tight whisper and she felt his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

"I will." Another brush of calloused thumbs. "I promise, but for now, we have to get to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked into his eyes for a long moment. His eyes were clear. Open. Honest.

"Let's go, then." His face relaxed with relief as he released her face and grabbed her hand, pulling her up with him. Across the lake, jets of light still shot, brightening the night in a ghastly, beautiful glow.

"How do we get back?" she asked, his hand a strangely reassuring anchor in her own.

"They can track the mark," he said, his hand spasming around hers. He readjusted his grip. "I was going to apparate you there, but I was afraid they'd follow." He swallowed and looked down at her, his face illuminated on one side by the distorted light reflecting off the lake's surface. "We'll have to go on foot."

Hermione stared up at him and let herself really look. His lip was split open, but the blood had dried. He had a gash above his eye and the blood was trickling slowly. One cheekbone sported a dark bruise.

"We need somewhere to go, first." She tightened her grip on his hand and looked around. "We won't make it back there if we're too hurt, too tired."

Malfoy nodded.

"There," she said, pointing with her free hand. Off to the side was a small shack, half-hidden in the overgrown trees, that looked abandoned.

"They'll see it," he said, his voice low.

"Not when I'm through with it." She was so confident, he followed her when she began pulling him toward it.

She tugged him inside and as soon as the door closed she started casting silently. Her wand glowed. The walls glowed and seemed to hum with magic. And then, all was silent.

"There," she said as she tucked her wand into the holster on her thigh. She turned to him. He stood in the center of the small space, barely discernible in the dark, watching her with another unreadable expression. "Trust me," she said, biting her bottom lip. "They won't be able to find us."

"Is this how you stayed hidden for the last year?" he asked, his voice low and croaky.

"Yes." She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She was alone, in the woods, with Draco Malfoy. The same Draco Malfoy who'd spent six years of school verbally abusing her. The same Draco Malfoy who'd gone out of his way to make her feel inferior. The same Draco Malfoy who'd stood by and watched as his aunt tortured her.

The same Draco Malfoy who'd jumped in front of at least six Death Eaters and dragged her to safety. The same Draco Malfoy who's Dark Mark looked like it was being rejected by his magical core.

"Sit down and I'll take care of your injuries," she said, suddenly nervous. Something in the way he looked at her made her want to trust him, and her gut was rarely wrong, but that didn't mean she had just forgotten the last seven years.

Without hesitation, he glanced around the space and found a stool, then sat on it.

Hermione walked to him, and silently cast the charm for bluebell flames. They sprang to life in a small glass jar and she brought it with her to examine his injuries.

"Hold this, please." She handed him the jar and he took it in both hands, then looked up at her in the soft, blue light. "I'm going to heal these cuts, alright? Then, you're going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on."

"Alright," he said, his voice husky and soft.

With delicate fingers, she prodded the flesh around the cut above his eye. A clean cut. No debris. She then let her fingers fall to his split lip - an older injury, but still, no infection that she could see.

"It'll sting a bit," she said, and he nodded, his silvery eyes wide. In the blue light from the flames, the flecks of blue stood out in stark contrast to his silvery irises and reminded her of a night sky in reverse. She retrieved her wand from her thigh holster, gently held his face with one hand, then let the wand tip hover just above the injury on his forehead. "Episkey," she said quietly. He didn't even flinch as the long gash slowly healed, skin stitching itself back together as if the wound were never there. "OK?" she asked, and he nodded, never taking his eyes off her face.

She touched the skin by his lip and couldn't help but notice the slight widening of his eyes. "Episkey," she barely breathed, and the split in his bottom lip - swollen and crusted with dried blood - closed, returning his lip to its previous unblemished state.

"Thank you," he said, and her hands fell away from his face as she took a step back.

"We should stay in here a while," Hermione said, stepping away further, unsure why her heart was beating faster than usual. "If they tracked your apparition, we need to give them time to look for us, and leave." She leaned back against the wall, just outside the bluebell flame's light. "Now, can you tell me what's going on?"

Across the small room, Malfoy sighed. He sat the jar of blue flames down on a small, rickety table and scrubbed his hands over his face. "You're probably not going to believe me," he said, meeting her gaze.

"You saved my life," she said, crossing her arms over her stomach and wincing - cracked ribs for sure. "I'll trust what you say."

He let his head fall forward slightly, his shaggy blonde hair falling over one eye. He swallowed heavily. "I wasn't supposed to do that," he said, voice gruff.

"Obviously," she said, a small smirk on her lips.

"No, I mean - " he ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up in some places. "You don't understand. Bloody hell." He sighed again, heavily, then leaned his elbows on his knees and looked up at her. "This will sound unbelievable, but - but I've been working for the Order since You-Know-Who decided to brand me. Back at the start of sixth year."

Hermione felt shock ripple through her body as her mouth fell open slightly. Instead of saying anything, she just nodded, hoping he'd continue.

"I've been working as a traitor. A spy." He ran his hands through his hair again. "And my job wasn't supposed to be over until You-Know-Who was dead. I was supposed to maintain the illusion until then." He nodded, expression tight. "I'm a liability to the Order if the Death Eaters know. And now they know."

"Why?" Her voice was hoarse and again, her heart was acting against her wishes and speeding along inside her chest. "Why save me then?"

He sighed and dropped his gaze, hair falling in front of his face, a few strands clumped together with dried blood. He took a long, slow breath, then looked back at up at her, his silvery eyes bright in the light from the bluebell flames.

"Becuase, Granger, you're the reason I joined the bloody Order in the first place."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all. Also, this is COMPLETELY unedited. Because #life. **

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For a long moment, Hermione just stared at him, mouth still slightly open, at a complete loss for words. He stared back, his big, silver eyes wide, and then his eyelids slowly shut and he let out a long-suffering sigh. He opened his mouth, as if he were going to speak again, but sounds outside silenced him.

Both sets of eyes turned toward the door where voices could now be heard.

Without thinking about it, both Malfoy and Hermione moved toward one another. Hermione grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his so he couldn't pull away, then gently tugged him toward the corner of the room opposite the door.

"Do you trust me?" she whispered and was only a little bit shocked when he nodded without hesitation. "Hold on to me, then. We have to be very, very close for this to work.."

He looked down at her, the light from the bluebell flames bouncing off his face, and nodded. He let go of her hand and sat on a small, wooden table in the corner so that he was more level with her. He slipped his arms around her waist, below her rips, and she stepped into him, pressing her back against his chest.

She lifted her wand arm, then placed her hand on the back of his where it rested on her waist. She didn't see him close his eyes or feel his breath catch.

"Celare plene," she whispered. Malfoy felt something like spiderwebs cover him, starting at his head and gently flowing down his body. He went rigid and immediately Hermione's hands were on his where the clutched her waist. Her fingers against his arm soothed the tension and as he relaxed she sank back against him. He watched in fascination as they both slowly disappeared. "I'm going to lead them away." Her voice was barely a breath, but this close, he heard her. He nodded, his cheek against her hair.

With a flick of her wand, the door to the cabin creaked open and Draco felt whatever spells she'd cast over the building vanish. It was only a moment before robed figures were bursting through the doors.

"They've been here," one voice, muffled by the mask, said. "The flames haven't yet died."

Another looked around the room, wand raised in a brilliant lumos that had both Hermione and Malfoy squinting. Neither dared move, but Hermione let herself press a little more firmly against him. "Where do you think they went?" the second robed figure said. Hermione didn't recognize their voices.

"Maybe they're still here," the first one said and stepped fully into the space, spinning in a low circle. Hermione's heart was beating loudly, and Malfoy's arms tightened the tiniest bit, calming her down in a way that was almost more alarming than the robed killers just feet away, but she didn't have time to analyze that now.

"We should just torch the place, just in case," the second person said.

"We should - "

Hermione tensed in Malfoy's arms and whispered an incantation under her breath. From outside, suddenly, her voice echoed. "_Malfoy, come on. We have to __**move.**_"

Both Death Eaters turned toward the door and fled, black robes billowing behind them.

There was a long, silent beat of time. Malfoy's arms were still around her waist, and her hands were still clutching his hands. And then, she slowly pulled away. With the loss of contact, the spiderweb-feeling covered them again and they rematerialized. Hermione peeked out the door, then ducked back in, her shoulders sagging with relief.

"We'll need to wait a few minutes, but then we should be able to head toward the castle."

Malfoy stood from the table and nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Thank you," Hermione said, suddenly, stepping toward him. "For trusting me."

Malfoy ducked his head and nodded, the fringe of his hair covering his eyes. "Do you have any injuries?" He looked up at her, his eyes unreadable and intense. "You healed mine," he motioned toward his face. "I can return the favor." He met her eyes and that unreadable expression made her breath catch, but then he looked away.

"My ribs," she said before she could think. "That blast. I think they're bruised."

In the dim, blue light, Malfoy nodded. Hermione approached him, then lifted the hem of her tee-shirt, which was stained with dirt. She winced as she leaned. Malfoy, much taller than her, moved to his knees and summoned the bluebell flames closer, unwilling to cast a lumos yet. Hermione looked up at the ceiling as she felt his breath on the skin of her stomach and something warm and shocking settled in her belly.

"They're bruised," he said, his long, cool fingers gently touching the skin just above the bottoms of her ribs. "Maybe cracked." He gently pushed and she hissed. One of his hands settled on her waist, and the other landed flatly against her skin like a cool compress. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Her voice was barely a breath. Since when did Malfoy have this sort of effect on her? He was the enemy, but when he touched her, he felt familiar. He felt comforting and exciting. She closed her eyes.

"I can't heal them, but I can bind them. It'll hurt, but it'll keep them from jarring on our way to the castle." He pulled his hands away from her skin and she felt her lips turning down in a frown at the loss. "Ready?"

She looked down at him and had the sudden, irrational urge to run her fingers through his white-blonde hair. In the blue light, it shone like silver.

"Ready."

He put one hand on her hip over her pants to steady her, then let the tip of his wand rest against her skin just above her ribs. "Perduro servo." She gasped, her hands going to his shoulders, as a deep, warm pain bloomed in her ribs. His hands were both on her hips then, steadying her as she folded forward, leaning against him. And then, as quickly as it appeared, the pain faded.

She slowly stood, hands still on his shoulders, and took a deep, steadying breath. No pain.

"Thank you," she said.

He was still on his knees, looking up at her as if he were in some sort of pain. Her hands were on his shoulders, his on her hips.

With a deep breath, he stood, dropping his hands away - hers falling from his broad shoulders.

"You haven't told me why you saved me," she said, acutely feeling the absence of his hands.

A pained look crossed his face and he stepped away from her. "We need to get to the castle." He turned back to her, sadness clear in his eyes - and she was shocked to find she wanted to erase it somehow - and said, "I promise, once we're there, once this is over, I'll tell you."

Hermione Granger was not one to dash into things without all the knowledge available, but something in his tone - pleading, heartfelt, honest - had her nodding.

"It'll be a long journey on foot," she said, anxious to get there, to see if Harry and Ron were okay, and to find out exactly what game Draco Malfoy was playing at.

When he didn't respond right away, she looked at him, only to find him looking at her witha smirk. It was the same smirk he'd worn for seven years, and she was surprised - no, she was _shocked _\- to find the familiarity of the expression to be calming. "What?" she asked, eyes narrowed, and his smirk just grew.

"We won't be walking, Granger," he said, one eyebrow lifted.

"Then just how do you propose we make it all the way around the Black Lake?" She crossed her arms and jutted her chin out, and his smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. She couldn't remember ever having seen him grin. It was a nice look.

With a triumphant sort of swagger, he reached around her, just behind the front door, and pulled out a broom. Her eyes went round as saucers and his smirk crept back onto his face.

"We're going to fly."

* * *

Outside, voices quiet to avoid attracting attention, Draco mounted the broom and waited.

"What if it's faulty?" she whispered, her voice anxious.

"It isn't." He offered her his hand.

"What if it's been cursed?" She stood her ground, not budging a centimeter.

"We did all the routine checks inside. It's safe." He offered her his hand again, eyebrows raised.

"What if - "

"I promise," he said, leaning forward enough to gently catch her hand in his. "I won't let you fall." With a soft tug he pulled her closer and she felt her mouth go dry as she looked up into the silvery depth of his eyes. "You have my word."

Hermione took a shaky breath and nodded. She turned, stepped over the broom, and let him pull her against his chest.

It was the second time in an hour that she'd been here, pressed to his chest. His arms went around her waist and she fought the urge to settle into his warmth. Even though their lives were literally on the line, she couldn't help but want to stay right where she was. This was Draco Malfoy, but somehow she felt safer, caged against his chest, his arms around her, than she had ever felt anywhere else.

"I won't let you fall," he said, his breath tickling the hairs beside her ear. She nodded, but when he kicked off, she let out a small, breathy yelp. Her arms locked around one of his and her body went rigid. He scooted closer, pressing his chest to her back, his legs to her legs. He curled his body around hers so fluidly it was as if he'd done it a hundred times. "Trust me," he whispered in her ear.

She nodded once, eyes pressed closed, and then they were off.

The wind was cool, and through her closed eyelids Hermione could see the flashes of light from the battle. She kept her grip on his arms tight as she opened her eyes to survey the carnage. Her eyes filled with tears, and it wasn't from just the wind.

As if sensing her distress, Malfoy adjusted his grip on her, almost like he was giving her a hug. She leaned her head back on his shoulder, heartbreaking as she saw so many bodies - in black robes as often as not - littering the ground outside the castle walls.

In minutes, they were at the castle, keeping low to avoid being seen. Malfoy landed on a small turret that was deserted and quiet. His feet touched down and Hermione allowed herself a moment, barely a single beat of her heart, to enjoy the feeling of his body pressed to hers. Then she pulled away, dismounted, and waited for him.

Once he was off the broom, he looked around, searching for a door. "There," he said, pointing, and they were both off. They stopped just outside it and pressed their ears to it, listening. "Sounds clear," he said.

He went to open the door, but Hermione stopped him. He looked down at her, his face hard to see in the shadows cast by the castle, and without thinking too much about what she was doing, she stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his middle.

Before she could wonder if he'd hug her back, he was. He wrapped his long arms around her, bent his head over hers, and hugged her with a long, slow sigh.

She breathed deeply - he smelled like smoke and blood, but underneath that, something citrusy and familiar - and pressed her cheek to his chest where it rested. "I don't think I properly said thank you earlier," she whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear.

"There's no need," he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest that set her own heart racing.

She didn't have any other words, so they stood that way, silently, breathing each other in for a long moment.

And then, an explosion on the ground just on the other side of the castle wall broke whatever spell they'd fallen under and they stepped apart. Hermione's cheeks felt red, but now wasn't the time for that. With a single look at one another and a nod from Malfoy, they tugged the door open and ran inside.

"Follow me," Hermione whispered, holding her wand in one hand and taking his hand with the other. "I know where to start looking for the others."

"Room of Requirement," he said, his voice gravelly. Her eyes popped wide and her mouth opened to question, but he just shook his head. "I promise I'll tell you, but for now, we need to move."

She snapped her mouth shut and nodded. Hand in hand, wands extended, they ran as quietly as they could through the castle toward the seventh floor. They had to stop and hide a handful of times, only to discover the corridors empty.

"I thought there would be more action thant his, more of a fight," Hermione whispered after pulling Malfoy behind a tapestry to hide.

"Let's just get to the Room," he said, expression hard.

As they ran, ducking here and there, Hermione found herself wanting to reach up and smooth the hard lines from his face, but she quickly shook off this notion. Where were these thoughts coming from?

They reached the room and Hermione quickly got them inside. They were accosted by noise and people swarming, readying themselves, treating wounds.

A few people saw them and nodded. No one seemed overly surprised to see Malfoy here, and Hermione wondered why, in all her time with the Order, no one had bothered to tell her that he was on their side.

"We need to find - "

"Mione!" Harry's voice cut through the crowd, and then he was there, hugging her to him, smelling of smoke and ozone - a side effect of so many spells cast close together. Harry's eyes darted to Hermione's hand joined to Malfoy's, but he didn't say a word. Hermione found she couldn't - _wouldn't _\- let go of him, just in case. "There's so much - "

"What the bloody hell?" Ron bellowed, charging up to them and getting in Malfoy's face. "What the bloody - "

"He saved my life, Ron!" Hermione yelled, inserting herself between them, letting for of Malfoy's hand to shove at Ron's chest. "He's on our side!"

Ron's anger gave way to confusion and he looked over her head to meet Malfoy's gaze.

"You saved her life?" His face was hard and still he wouldn't look at Hermione.

"Death Eaters were about to kill her," Malfoy said, and Hermione felt him take a step back, away from her. She fought the urge to turn and grab him, instead keeping her hands on Ron's chest and her eyes on his angry face.

"He jumped in and saved me, then got me out of there," Hermione practically pleaded.

"They know who I am now," Malfoy said. "And there's this - " he shoved his sleeve up and showed them his unblemished arm.

"What the - "

"Granger did it," he growled. "Out of the blue, she just - just erased it." His voice broke a little at the end.

Ron stared at him for a long moment, his jaw muscles worked with barely concealed anger. "And that's all that happened?" Ron asked, jaw tight, nostrils flared.

"That's all that happened," Malfoy's tone was dead and lifeless.

Hermione stepped away from Ron, now sure he wasn't going to do anything to hurt Malfoy, and looked between them.

"You knew he was in the Order?" she asked Ron. "Why didn't I know?" She looked to Harry. "What's going on?" Her voice was frantic and she felt, rather than saw, Malfoy take a small step closer to her.

"We had a deal, Malfoy," Ron ground out between his gritted teeth.

"I'm aware, Weasley," Malfoy said, and Hermione could hear the sneer in his voice that she knew so well from her childhood. "But I couldn't let her die." His voice was quiet here, and for a moment all three boys went quiet.

"This can be sorted later," Harry said, intervening into the quiet. "We take care of our own," he said, looking at Malfoy. "They know who you are, but you're safe with us, so no harm, no foul."

"It changes the whole bloody plan," Ron said, spinning toward Harry. "The whole bloody fucking plan was based on Malfoy going and - "

"We'll come up with a new plan. One where Hermione's alive," Harry said, his eyes hard.

At this, Ron softened. He looked to Hermione, finally all anger gone, then back to Harry with a nod. "A new plan."

"You two, eat," Harry said with a nod. "Meet us over there as soon as you can get some food done." He motioned toward a table in the corner, surrounded by McGonnagal, Moody, and a few others.

Once they were gone, Hermione turned to Malfoy who was studiously staring at the floor.

"Malfoy," she said, but he feigned deafness and didn't respond. She took a step closer and, on a whim, said, "Draco."

His head whipped up and that sadness from before, that pain, was back in his eyes.

"What was the original plan?" her voice was soft and her hand was resting on his arm - the one that used to have the mark, but was now as fresh and clean as newly fallen snow. "Ron said the whole plan fell around you." She gave his arm a soft squeeze. "What was it?"

With a sigh, Draco looked up at her. His hair was in his eyes and she reached up and brushed it to the side. He leaned slightly into her touch before pulling away completely.

"The plan was for me to get close to You-Know-Who during the battle, to lure him away from the others, so that Potter, Weasley, and a few others, could ambush him. And if that didn't work to try and take him out myself."

"But he's a legilimens," Hermione said, her insides going cold. "He would have known."

The smile Draco gave her lacked any warmth at all. "Probably," he said.

"He would have killed you," she breathed. Suddenly, the thought of this happening - of Draco Malfoy trying to lure Voldemort away, of trying to kill him himself - was the most reprehensible thought Hermione could ever have. "He would have _killed _you," she said again, gripping his shoulders with hands like iron clamps.

"Probably," Draco said, his mirthless smile falling away.

Hermione's heart beat dully in her chest at the thought. She stared into his eyes - silver flecked with blue. She thought of his arms around her as he flew her to safety, of the way he'd jumped in front of the other Death Eaters to protect her, of the reverence with which he bound up her injured ribs.

"I'm glad we're thinking of a new plan," she breathed, stepping closer, not caring that they were in a room full of people.

He swallowed and she tracked the movement of his adam's apple.

"I'm glad you're alive." She let her fingers grip his shoulders more tightly.

With a sigh, he pulled her hands from his shoulders. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles and said, "Me too, Granger." He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he simply gave her fingers a squeeze, a final swipe of his thumbs over her knucks, and he dropped her hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for sticking with me on this! Again, this is largely unedited, but when you get the chance to post, you post.**

**JK Rowling rules (and owns) all. **

* * *

Hermione and Draco made their way to the table where rations were being distributed. Being in the Room of Requirement meant food was never an issue, but still, just in case, they were portioning things out on the off chance the Room ceased to be a valid option.

"I don't like not knowing what's going on," Hermione said quietly as they accepted sandwiches and cups of pumpkin juice.

"I know," he said, ducking his head in thanks to Hannah Abbott, who gave him a tight-lipped smile. Hermione watched the exchange with a scowl. Was she the only person in the whole place who hadn't known that Malfoy - _Draco_ \- had switched sides?

"How can I make the right choices - how can I make choices that affect _others_ \- if I don't have all the information?" she asked, following him to the side where small tables had appeared for people to sit and eat. The room was buzzing with activity, and their conversation was easily lost in the noise.

"If it comes down to it," Draco said, taking a bite of his sandwich, not meeting her eyes, "make the best choice for you." He took a drink of pumpkin juice and neatly patted his lips with a paper napkin. "That's what's important."

"No," she said, hands flat on the table, appetite gone. "What's important is having all the information." When he didn't look at her, she reached over and put her hand on his arm - the same arm that just hours ago had been stained with the Dark Mark. "You spent years being horrible to me - " She didn't miss the way his face screwed up in pain. "But tonight, you saved my life. You protected me." She curled her fingers around his forearm and felt his muscles twitch beneath her hand. "I want - no I _need_ \- to know _why._"

Draco sighed and slid his arm as if he might take her hand. But then his eyes caught on something over her shoulder and his expression darkened. He pulled his hand completely away from her.

"I know, Hermione."

_Hermione._ Never had she heard him say her given name, and that feeling of electricity and anticipation and excitement welled in her stomach. "Granger," he amended, his cheeks turning rosy. "But right now, all I can tell you is what you already know." He laced his fingers together and laid them in his lap, as if to keep them from reaching for her. "I'm with the Order. I saved your life. And even though it wasn't part of the bloody plan, I would do it again." He exhaled heavily through his nose. "Until this is over, I'll keep you safe."

"But _why_?" she pleaded, her voice a whisper.

He looked like he might answer, like he wanted to, but then Harry and Ron were back and the moment was lost.

"We have a new plan," Harry said, taking the seat beside Draco. "One that I'm happy with this time."

"There's a chance word hasn't gotten back to You-Know-Who yet," Draco said, pushing his unfinished meal away. "I could still try to - "

"No," Hermione and Harry said at the same time. Beside Hermione, Ron scowled and slouched lower in his seat.

"No," Harry repeated, giving Draco a tight-lipped smile. "I didn't like that plan before, and now it's even more dangerous."

"This new plan puts more people at risk," Ron said, glowering at Draco from beside Hermione.

"More people, yes. But the risk for them isn't as high as it was for Malfoy," Harry said with a sigh, as if he'd already had this conversation and was loathe to have it again.

"One person is worth less than - "

"Harry said the plan's changed, Ron," Hermione snapped, turning toward him with a cold look. "There's no need to risk one person for _sure_ when we can work together and have a better shot at succeeding."

Ron stared at her, jaw clenched, but didn't say anything. Hermione turned back toward Harry, but caught Draco's eye for a brief moment. "What's the plan, Harry?"

"We got the idea from Fred and George," Harry began with a smirk.

* * *

Over the next few hours, the younger members of the Order prepared. While the adults went out into the night and fought off the Death Eaters, to keep them from suspecting anything, the teenagers set traps. All over the castle, they set traps. Using Harry's cloak and disillusionment charms, they snuck out into the battle and set traps - spells and potions designed to work like bombs, curses triggered with a password that would freeze opponents like ice, binding spells and jinxes combined with silencing charms.

Hermione had wanted to work with Draco, to try and get more information out of him, but Ron had approached him first, expression hard, and Draco had nodded stiffly. As they'd walked away, he'd looked back at Hermione once. His face was neutral, but something in his eyes made her stomach flip. Something in his eyes told her he'd wanted to work with her, too.

Hermione and Harry worked in silence. Even disillusioned, someone might see them if they looked hard enough, and Hermione's invisibility spell only worked if the two people were in close physical contact the whole time. It was over an hour later when they were trudging back toward the Room, when Hermione finally pulled him into an empty classroom and confronted him.

"I can't stand this," she whispered after silencing and locking the room. "I can't stand it, Harry. I have to know whatever it is I don't know."

"'Mione - "

"No." She took a step toward him. "I can tell - everyone knows something I don't. Everyone knew Draco was in the Order, but not me. Why didn't I _know?_" Her voice took on a pleading tone. "How did you keep it from me?"

"Listen, it's not my place to - "

"There's something going on, and I feel like - I feel like I _should know what it is_." Tears welled in her eyes for reasons she couldn't explain. "Like it's important that I know. Please, Harry."

For a moment, he looked conflicted, his green eyes softening behind his dirty glasses. But then, before he could speak, an explosion shook the castle's very foundation. Without a word, the duo darted out into the hall, toward the sound of the blast.

Bursting through the castle's doors, they stopped flat out when they saw the destruction.

Smoke filled the air. Flames - regular flames, not magical ones - surged on one side of the courtyard, while the other sat untouched. Bodies littered the ground - some moving, some not. Off to the side, Ron stumbled toward them. He had an angry red burn on one arm, which he clutched with the other. Hermione grabbed him, grabbed his face to make sure he was OK, heart pounding a painful rhythm.

"I'm fine," he said, coughing and folding forward to catch his breath. "Trap went off too soon." Medics, trained by Madame Pomphrey, were rushing in to help Order members. One ran to Ron, but he waved them off. "Malfoy was with me." He said it through gritted teeth as if he didn't want to say it, but his eyes showed that, as much as he seemed to loathe the blonde Slytherin, he was also concerned. "I don't know where he is now."

Hermione's stomach bottomed out. She turned toward the fire, then back to Ron. Her breath was coming fast and ragged, and she wondered in the back of her mind why this knowledge - Draco was in the blast, and Ron didn't know where he was now - had her in immediate panic mode. Worried, she would understand, but this was more than worried. This was full-blown, heart-rending panic, and she didn't understand it at all. Regardless, she couldn't ignore the feeling. She needed to find him.

"We should get inside," Ron said, seeing Hermione's wild gaze. "They'll find him. They'll - "

But Hermione was already off, wand out, running toward the flames. Off the right, nearest the outside wall, she thought she'd seen a flash of platinum hair. Behind her, Ron yelled for her to wait, but she ran beyond his reach, beyond his voice, into the cloud of smoke that surrounded the flames.

"Draco!" she called, voice hoarse with smoke and fear. "Draco!"

She heard a cough. The smoke cleared for barely a second, but it was enough. He was there, slumped against the wall, head leaning against the stone, blood trickling from a new gash right at his hairline.

"Draco," she breathed, jumping over a fallen stone to land beside him. She crouched and cast a powerful shield that blocked out the smoke around them. He took a deep, shuddering breath of the newly fresh air.

"Granger," he growled, then started coughing, following by a wince as he pressed his palm against the wound on his head. "You shouldn't be here."

"Are you OK?" she was on her knees, her hands hovering over him. She felt the desire, the _need_, to touch him, but she didn't. She had no right to touch him, and yet, she wanted nothing more than to lay her hands on him and make sure he was there and he was whole.

"It's not safe," he said, coughing again.

"You _saved_ me. I won't just leave you in this fire and smoke." She grabbed his arm and he flinched. "Malfoy." She gave his arm a tug, but he didn't move. "_Draco. Please._"

With the sound of his first name on her lips, he turned to her, his eyes wide.

"Why do you care, Granger?" His tone was gruff, but his eyes were pleading with her. He wanted her to give him a reason. She felt herself leaning forward as a wave of tears overwhelmed her. All of these emotions were coming out of nowhere, and she didn't understand them, but they felt _right _somehow.

"I don't know," she said, scooting so that her knees were pressed against his hip. "You saved me, and - and - " she leaned closer, gripping his arm, his shirt. "I just can't let you die. I can't let you get hurt." She choked the words out around her tears and even though his expression didn't change, she saw tears well in his blue-flecked silvery-eyes, too.

"It's not safe," he repeated, hand still pressed to his wound on his head, jaw set despite his unshed tears.

Hermione pulled his hand away from his head and touched the tip of the wound with her wand. "Episkey," she said with vitriol, angry that he wasn't budging, wasn't giving her any new information to figure out what all of this was. The wound stitched closed. She shoved her wand into its holster and stared at him. "Come on," she said again, hating how her voice broke. "Come with me."

"Go back to the others," he said, pushing off the wall to stand, wobbling slightly. She stood, too, putting her hands out to steady him. "I need - " he looked down at her for a long moment. "I need to go finish what I started, new plan or not."

"You're going to find You-Know-Who," she said, feeling her heart begin to break.

"If Potter dies, all is lost," he said, voice gruff. "If I die, nothing changes. It's the safest bet."

"Nothing changes?" she asked. "If you die - " she began, suddenly gripping the front of his shirt in both fists. "You _can't _die."

"Granger, _why do you care?_" His voice was quiet, but even over the roar of the fire, within their little shielded bubble, she heard.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came. She searched her mind and found it blank. So, without words to aid her, she did all she could think to. She released his shirt and grabbed his face in both hands, then tugged his mouth to hers for a searing kiss.

His hands immediately grabbed her waist, pulled her close, and she deepened the kiss without any hesitation. His body pressed against hers felt like coming home, and she pulled him closer, needing to feel him against her. He kissed her as if she were air and he was suffocating.

She didn't want to let go. She couldn't let go. How could he think that his death would mean nothing? Her hand slipped down to the back of his neck and she felt the small chain of a necklace, just beneath the collar of his shirt.

As soon as her skin made contact with the metal, her mind was assaulted with images and feelings, with tastes and smells.

_Draco, laughing by the Blake Lake, holding her hand so gently, their fingers laced together._

_Darkness all around as he lay beside her, his breaths long and deep, his arm casually draped over her waist. _

_Him, towering over her with the canopy of her dormitory bed as a backdrop. His chest, bare and smooth, save for a long, jagged scar across the pale skin. The feel of his weight, pressing her into a bed. _

_The feeling of her heart fluttering in her chest as he kissed her sweetly under the stars. The whisper of an **I love you,** from his lips against the shell of her ear._

And then, he was pulling away, pushing her away, holding her at arm's length, looking over her head with a look that suggested equal parts anger and sadness. Without looking, she knew Ron must be there.

He let her go. He was going to walk away, but she grabbed his arm and held on tight.

"What did I just see?" she asked, knowing Harry and Ron would be there at any moment. "What was all that? Between us?"

His eyes went big and his lips parted, but then the others were there - Ron, face red, fists clenched, and Harry, a look of undiluted sadness etched across his face.

"What the bloody hell was _that, _Malfoy?" he spat, backing Draco against the wall. Hermione absently noted that the fire had been contained and the smoke cleared. With the smoke gone, she knew they'd seen the kiss, but somehow, she didn't feel ashamed like she probably should have. Instead, all she could think about were those images - they felt like memories - and how they'd made her feel _whole._

"_I_ kissed _him_," she said, standing up straight. "Don't yell at him, yell at me." Not that Ron had any right to yell, other than as a concerned friend - that ship had sailed after he'd started sucking face with Lavender at every available turn - but Hermione knew he would yell, felt like he needed to, even, but she wouldn't let him yell at Draco. Not over this.

Ron stayed still, cornering Draco against the wall. "What did you tell her?" he growled, and Hermine's eyes blew wide.

"So there is something, something no one is telling me." Her voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it. Ron turned, his angry, red face calming. His expression turning the slightest bit sheepish. "Everyone knows something, but me. About you," she said, pointing to Draco. "And no one will tell me. But when I kissed you - " her breath caught and she took a shaky breath. "When I _kissed _you, I saw - "

Without warning, with an animalistic grown, Ron turned and punched Draco in the jaw so hard, he collapsed back against the wall.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled and shoved him out of the way. She knelt beside Draco, who had already pushed himself up and was rubbing his jaw, an irritated look on his face. "What's _wrong _with you?" She asked, spinning toward Ron, standing protectively between him and a prone Draco Malfoy.

"He's poisoned you against me," Ron said, his teeth gritted together. "Again."


	4. Chapter 4

**Y'all are amazing. Seriously. Amazing. I am feeling the love for this fic! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Here's the fourth update! Hope you enjoy it!**

**As per usual, JKR is the queen of all.**

* * *

"Again?" Hermione whispered, and despite the sounds of the battle raging just on the outside of the castle walls, and the sound of people buzzing as witches and wizards injured in the blast were treated, her voice carried to all three boys with her. "What do you mean, _again?_"

Ron paled and his mouth fell open slightly, but no words came out. Harry looked down at his feet. Hermione turned to Draco to find him looking up at her, his expression no longer guarded, but instead full of fear and something that looked like longing.

"What does he mean, you've turned me against him, again?" she asked, keeping herself from stepping toward him.

Draco's closed his eyes slowly, then with great effort, pushed himself back to his feet.

"We need to go after You-Know-Who. After that, we can - "

"No!" Hermione said, eyes welling with angry tears. "No. Everyone knows something. Everyone but me. And I'm sick of it." She stared at Draco, stared right into his silvery eyes, right at the blue flecks that reminded her of so many stars, and tried to will him to agree with her. "Please."

Draco softened, then looked over her head at the others, his expression raw and broken.

"No," Ron said, his voice breaking a little. "No. This isn't how we planned this."

"But it's how it is," Harry said, his voice gruff.

"We had a deal!" Ron growled.

"Ron - "

"No," Ron said, pushing past Hermione and getting in Draco's face. "No. You and I, we had a deal."

"I plan to stick to my end of it," Draco said. His cheek had started to bruise.

"You _kissed _her," Ron hissed.

"She kissed _me,_" Draco said, his own voice low. Hermione watched them both, at a loss, unsure of why they were reacting the way they were.

"You didn't stop her," Ron said, taking a threatening step forward. Draco held his grown, hands in fists.

"Of course I didn't," Draco said, his voice a growl. He took a step closer to Ron, too, and pulled a necklace from inside his shirt. A pendant hung from the end, but Hermione couldn't see what it was. It was the one she'd felt when her arms went around his neck. The one that had made her see whatever those things were that she'd seen.

"I'm about to hex you _both,_" Hermione said, finally fed up with what was happening. "If someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I swear I'll - "

Draco shouldered past Ron and stopped centimeters from her, his eyes boring into her. She stopped talking, mouth going dry as he stared down at her, eyes molten and full of pent up emotion.

"I told you I'd tell you everything after this was over." He took a deep breath through his nose and unhooked the short-chain from around his neck. With a quick flick of his wand, he transfigured a small piece of broken stone into a velvet cinched-bag and dropped the necklace inside. "Do you trust me? Trust me enough to wait until that time to put this necklace on and let me explain?"

He swallowed heavily and Hermione found that all she wanted to do was reach up and rest her hand on the side of his throat, to feel that motion, to feel his skin, his stubble, his heartbeat. But instead, she lifted her chin and nodded.

Draco's shoulders sagged with relief. He offered her the bag - a deep, rich burgundy with a shiny silver drawstring - and when she put her hand out, he rested it carefully in her palm as if it were as delicate as a young, flightless bird.

"Don't take it out of the bag until all of this is said and done." He closed her fingers over the bag. His hands were warm. "Promise?"

Hermione looked up at Draco, the boy who'd tormented her for years, and realized that for some reason, she knew she'd do whatever he asked.

"Promise," she said.

He smiled a small, sad smile. "Thank you."

"Enough of this," Ron said, his voice gruff, his eyes sad. "The traps are laid. It's time to finish this."

"The second part of the plan," Hermione said, gripping the velvet bag in her hand like a lifeline. "I want to go, too."

"No," they all three said in unison, and Hermione scowled.

"No," Harry repeated, putting his filthy hand on her shoulder. "They'll target you. And we need you here, watching the maps, coordinating the others." He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll take care of each other." Harry's eyes were sad but kind, and she chose to believe him.

"All three of you?" she asked, her gaze pointed.

Harry nodded and squeezed her shoulder again. "All three of us."

* * *

Since all the horcruxes had been found and destroyed, the final part of the plan was fairly simple. Hermione was to coordinate triggering the various traps after leading Death Eaters close to them with helpless-seeming decoys right to them. While these traps were reigning chaos down on the bulk of the opposing forces, Harry, Ron, and Draco would be luring Voldemort away. While Harry battled him, Ron and Draco would watch his back and help fight where and when they could.

It was risky, but they were down to the wire, and there were no other good options. This war needed to end.

Hermione's end of the plan went off without a hitch. She coordinated from the Room of Requirement, and one by one, their booby-trapped spells and curses incapacitated large numbers of Death Eaters.

The sun would be rising at any moment. They'd not given a timeframe for their return, and the brighter the sky got, the more her palms itched, the more she felt like there were ants under her skin. The more she wanted to open the bag, to touch the necklace that she'd been asked not to touch.

"They'll be back," Neville said, joining her where she waited on the steps. "They'll take care of each other."

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what it is that everyone seems determined not to tell me," she said, voice quiet, her eyes glued to the gates where they would come through if they made it back. _When _they made it back.

"It's not my place," he said, and she sighed. "But - " he took a deep breath and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I know that they - all three of them - will come back, even if they're only coming back because they'll not want you to worry."

"Even Draco?" she asked, tears blurring her vision at the thought of him not returning. She knew Harry and Ron would protect each other, but she wasn't so sure they would protect him.

"Especially him," Neville said. And with that cryptic comment and a squeeze of her shoulder, he stood and left her to stew in her thoughts.

She closed her eyes as the morning sun began to warm her skin and let herself remember, really remember, the flashes she'd gotten when she'd kissed him.

_Draco, laughing by the Blake Lake, holding her hand so gently, their fingers laced together._

She could see his smirk in the bright moonlight. Could feel the callouses on his hands from where he held a broom, even though his fingers in hers were light. Each brush of his skin sending chills down her arm. She could smell something citrusy and bright. And his laugh - it was such a rich, full sound, and it filled her with something akin to light

_Darkness all around as he lay beside her, his breaths long and deep, his arm casually draped over her waist._

She could feel his breath, fanning over her cheek. His lips were so close to her cheek and she could imagine just rolling slightly to one side and letting his lips brush her skin. He was warm and soft against her and she felt so incredibly calm.

_Him, towering over her with the canopy of her dormitory bed as a backdrop. His chest, bare and smooth, save for a long, jagged scar across his pale skin. The feel of his weight, pressing her into a bed._

Her cheeks heated as she imagined him, imagined his smooth skin, his ropey muscles, caging her. She imagined the feel of him, from head to toe, fitted against her perfectly. She imagined pressing her lips against that scar to soothe any ache that may remain.

_The feeling of her heart fluttering in her chest as he kissed her sweetly under the stars. The whisper of an I love you, from his lips against the shell of her ear._

I love you. A sob welled up in her and somehow, she knew, that even though she barely knew him, even though until yesterday, she thought he was the enemy, somehow, she loved him. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. But that didn't stop what she knew to be true.

I love you. His breath against her ear. The thought of it filled her with longing and peace and fear.

Hands in a fist, she bit her knuckles and opened her eyes, wiping the tears away. She trained her gaze on the gate, waiting for it to open so that when he walked through it, she could go to him and tell him that it didn't matter what they weren't telling her, it didn't matter what the secret was or what deal he'd made with Ron. None of it mattered because she loved him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Back-to-back chapters, because, why not?**

**Rowling is our queen.**

* * *

When the birds burst from the Forbidden Forest, Hermione stood. She'd been sitting, soaking in the sun, for hours. Waiting for her friends to return. Waiting for Draco to return.

She watched the birds fly high in the sky and absently remembered the name for a flock of birds flying in unison as this one was. Murmuration. She wasn't sure where the memory came from, but it was there. Murmuration. A group of individuals, moving as one, seemingly connected though they're truly separate.

She was lost in thought - about birds, about strange memories with no real connections - when her eyes darted to the gates, her heart suddenly racing. And then, but a moment later, the gate opened.

Harry and Ron walked through, Ron's arm over Harry's shoulder. The gate closed behind them. Bile rose in Hermione's throat as she raced down the steps. She wanted to ask where he was, but first -

"Are you both alright?" Her words were caught in her throat, coming out in a choked-sort of way. "Is Voldemort - "

"Dead." Harry nodded. Ron grimaced. "Ron's leg is hurt, but other than that, we're fine," Harry said, shifting his grip on Ron's arm.

"Can we talk?" Ron asked, grimacing again as he accidentally put weight on his injured leg. There was no blood, though, so Hermione wasn't too concerned. "Just the two of us?"

She hesitated a moment, heart ricocheting off her ribs. She nodded, a stuttered, pained sort of motion, but then said, "First. Where is he?" Her voice was barely there, more of an exhaled wail than actual words.

Ron gritted his teeth. Harry's face fell in sympathy.

"Why do you care?" Ron asked, moving away from Harry to stand, one foot propped up on his toe to avoid putting weight on it. "He's a git. He's been awful to you for years. He - "

"I love him," she sobbed, hands flying to her mouth and eyes flying wide at the admission.

Ron paled. "You put on the necklace."

"What?" She held up the bag. "No. No, I promised I wouldn't. I just - " she took a calming breath. "I just do, Ron. I don't know - " her hands were shaking and she took another deep breath. "I just know that I do." She turned her face to Harry, who was smiling a sad smile. "Where is he?"

Ron looked like he might interrupt, but at the last moment, he stopped himself.

"He's outside the gate," Harry said, grabbing Ron's arm and hoisting it over his shoulder again. "He wanted us to come in first. Wanted to give you a chance to talk to us."

Hermione stared at him. Her heart was telling her to run for the gate. To tear it open and find him. But Harry and Ron were her oldest friends. Her best friends. She couldn't so easily abandon them. She owed them more than that.

"You're both OK?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Truly OK?"

"Just go," Ron spat, cheeks red.

"We're fine," Harry said, tugging Ron away. "Truly. We'll see you in a bit."

Without waiting to see if they made it inside, Hermione was off, down the steps, tangled hair flying behind her, velvet bag gripped in her hand.

She threw the gate open and stopped short. There he was, leaning against a tree, hands in his pockets. No injuries that she could see. Just some dirt, his clothes a little torn, but he was whole.

She stared at him for a long moment. He didn't move.

But she did.

With long, frantic strides, she closed the distance between them. He came off the tree, hands still in his pockets, expression still guarded.

And then, much as she had in the aftermath of the explosion, she grabbed his face, and kissed him with all the feelings within her.

The feel of his lips, his scent, all so familiar. But unlike that first kiss, his hands stayed rooted in his pockets. When she pulled away, he took a step back, cheeks red, eyes wide. "Did you talk to Weasley?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Are you OK?" She stepped toward him and he stepped back.

"I'm fine," he said, eyes still wide, hands still stubbornly in his pockets. "_Did you talk to Weasley?_" he asked, his voice turning hard.

"I saw them. He was hurt." She huffed, hands shaking. She crossed her arms over her stomach to try and stop the trembling.

"Granger, you have to talk to him." He pulled one hand from his pocket and brushed it through his hair. "You have to. I made a deal, and - "

"I love you!" she blurted out, eyes wide, heart racing.

He stopped and stared, his own face going slack. He took a breath. Then another. "Did you - " he cleared his throat. "Did you put on the necklace?" His voice was gruff.

"No." She sniffed and lifted her chin. She'd expected a different reaction and she couldn't help but feel a little bit rejected. "You asked me not to."

"But you love me?" he asked, his gruffness suddenly replaced with something else. _Hope._

"Yes," she said, her voice quiet. She took a tentative step toward him. "It doesn't make any sense," she said, keeping her eyes on his, moving slowly as if he were an animal that might bolt at any moment. "None of it. There's something you're not telling me, something everyone is keeping a secret, but - " Her toes bumped his toes and she looked up to maintain eye contact. "But it doesn't matter. Because while you were gone, out being foolish and brave and so, so stupid, when I thought you might not come back, I realized that somehow, I was in love with you."

"You're in love with me." He said it with barely any sound at all.

"I don't know how. Or why. But I know - "

He stopped her by swooping in, hands going to either side of her face, his fingers getting lost in her hair. He paused and looked into her eyes, breath dancing across her lips, before his lips pressed to hers, soft but insistent, and he sighed against her mouth.

_Home._ That's what kissing him felt like. Going home.

He pulled his lips from hers, but kept his forehead pressed to hers. His breath brushed her lips and she tingled with memories that weren't her own of his breath and hands against her skin.

"You haven't worn the necklace," he said, his thumbs brushing her cheeks, his fingertips pressing into her hair with a gentle, but insistent, pressure. "And you love me."

"Why aren't you more surprised by this?" she asked, gripping his sides with tight fingers, afraid he might bolt at any moment. "What is it I don't know?" She sobbed the last bit and his lips met hers gently, a soft pillowing of her bottom lip, then another, a kiss to the corner of her moth.

"Let's sit and talk, OK?" He kissed her again, his thumbs never ceasing their gentle strokes against her cheeks. Every movement calmed her, despite still being in the relative dark.

"OK."

He pulled away, but took her hand, laced his fingers with hers and she was taken back to the feeling of his hand in hers at the lake - the scene she'd seen experienced that wasn't really hers.

They sat, side by side, on the steps, her hand in his, in silence for a moment.

"I'm going to tell you everything," he said, shifting slightly so he was facing her, never relinquishing her hand. "But first, can I ask - " he ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "How are you so sure that you - that you love me? After everything we've - " he cut himself off with a grimace. "After all that I've done. You love me?"

Hermione could feel the tension in his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I just do," she said, angling her knees toward him. "I don't understand it, honestly. But while you were gone, I kept thinking, what if you never came back? And I knew, right then, that I loved you." She took a deep breath, looked away, then met his eyes again. "Also, I saw something." She shifted uncomfortably on the stone step. "When I kissed you, I saw something. They were like, like memories, but they weren't mine. They were of us." She blushed furiously when she remembered his naked torso pressed against hers.

Draco, to her surprise, nodded, his face sad and nervous. "I promised you that when this was all over, I'd tell you everything." He cleared his throat and squeezed her hand. "But I'm afraid."

Hearing Draco Malfoy admit fear was almost more shocking than anything else that had happened so far.

"Of what?" she asked, letting her thumb stroke the back of his hand.

"That you'll change your mind after you learn everything." He looked up at her, his eyes wide and hopeful. "When all this started, I never dreamed, never hoped, that you would love me without - "

"When all _what _started? You joining the Order?" She scooted closer, their faces so close she could kiss him if she wanted, and barely move to do it. "You said you joined because of me," she said.

"I did." He ducked his head again. "You asked me to."

"I didn't," she said, leaning back slightly, surprised. But Draco only sighed.

"You did." He slipped his hand from hers and plucked the little velvet bag from where she'd gently laid it on the ground beside them. With long, thin fingers, he opened the drawstring and withdrew the necklace and pendant from inside. She could see it clearly now, galleon sized pendant that was half golden sun, half silver moon. Across the two celestial bodies was the word _**aeternum**_ engraved into the metal. "You told me a lot of things," he said, the pendant resting gently in his hand.

"I don't understand," she said in a whisper.

In a quick movement, he leaned over, cupped her cheek with his free hand, and kissed her softly. Sweetly. She kissed him back, drinking in his lips, his scent, that feeling of home he brought with him.

"Just so you know," he said, gripping the necklace in his fist, tightly, his face almost touching hers, "I love you, too."

"Aren't you going to explain, then?" she asked, barely a whisper, heart thundering behind her ribs.

"Put on the necklace, and I can show you." He opened his hand, the sun and moon pendant resting in his palm like a bird on a nest. He picked it up by the clasp and held it out for her. With a deep breath, she turned, lifted her hair, and let him clasp it around her neck.

There was a moment when nothing happened. Draco's hand slipped into hers, and with a gasp, Hermione fell into a memory.


	6. Chapter 6

**OK folks, time for some questions to be answered. The next two chapters are going to be memories. I want them to play out like she's living them again for the first time, so each section break is a memory jump! I hope you enjoy them. As always, your reviews and favorites and follows mean the world.**

**Rowling is our queen!**

* * *

Hermione had looked into a Pensieve once in her life, and this experience was nothing at all like that. In a Pensieve, you observed a memory, you were there, but not really, and you watched it almost like a three-dimensional movie. But this experience was something altogether.

One moment she was sitting on a stone step, Draco's hand in hers, and the next she was running through Hogwarts in her school robes, hair flowing behind her. She was late for class, which was very unlike her, but she'd just seen Ron and Lavender wrapped around one another, hiding in an alcove just outside the Gryffindor common room, and she wasn't thinking clearly.

She and Ron weren't dating. They'd never dated. They'd never discussed dating. But she'd thought, after the way he'd been looking at her, after the way she'd been feeling, that they'd maybe -

A sob welled up in her throat at the memory of Ron holding Lavender, kissing her. And even though the thought of being kissed like _that _by Ron had never entered into her mind, being his girlfriend had. Traitorous tears were trailing down her cheeks and she was walking too fast and she wasn't paying attention. So when she plowed directly into someone on the second floor - her class was on the seventh floor, so she wasn't even sure why she was here - she fell back, back spilling, hair covering her face.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, tears blurring her vision as she scrambled to stand, pushing her hair out of her face to gather her books and quills. "I'm so sorry."

"Granger?" Malfoy's voice made her blood run cold and she slowly looked over to where he was sitting on the floor. He was on his bum, legs splayed, propped on his hands, hair splayed across his forehead.

"Oh Merlin," she said, even more ashamed of her tears and disheveled appearance now that she knew who she'd run into. It would be the icing on the proverbial cake for Malfoy to see her like this, to taunt her, and make her day that much worse. "It was an accident, alright?" She scrambled to grab her things. "I - I'm sorry."

He was silent for a beat, then he said, "Is everything OK?"

The sound of his voice, gruff and almost soft, pulled her up short. She looked at him through her tear-swollen eyes and was surprised to see no sneer, no smirk, just a neutral expression that almost suggested that his question was authentic. Her nose was running, so she wiped it on the back of her sleeve, then pushed her bushy hair out of her eyes, twisting it up in a rough approximation of a bun on the back of her head and securing it with an elastic.

"Obviously not," she said, sniffling obnoxiously and gathering the last of her fallen books now that her vision was hair-free. She crammed them in her bag and stood. She looked down at him and for just a moment really took him in. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a bit stringy, shirt untucked on one side and rumpled. Never, in all the years she'd known him, had she seen him look anyway but perfect. "Is everything OK with you?" she asked, expecting a snarl, a curse, a hex.

He stared up at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, then he sighed, his chin falling forward almost as if in defeat, or perhaps exhaustion. "Obviously not."

Hermione, in a moment of pity - and perhaps in a moment of revenge for Ron's behaviour as of late - stepped forward and offered Malfoy her hand to help him stand.

He stared up at the hand for a moment, and to the surprise of both of them, he reached up and took it.

* * *

"Is anyone sitting here?"

Hermione's head popped up at the sound of the voice, but she wasn't as surprised by it as she once might have been. Ever since that day in the hallway, she and Malfoy had been almost civil to one another.

"No," she said, eyes narrowed. "Would you - " she hesitated, sure this was a trap. Though they'd not been outright hostile in ages, this was still Malfoy, and one almost-normal interaction in a hallway didn't change years of hatred and prejudice. But something about the way he was looking at her - almost hopeful - pushed her Gryffindor bravery into overdrive and she sat up straight and said, "Would you like to join me?"

His expression didn't change - he was the master of a neutral face - but after a brief moment gave an almost imperceptible nod. Hermione shifted her things to make room and with almost wooden movements, he sat down.

For a long while, sharing a table, they worked in silence. Hermione kept sneaking glances at Malfoy. He looked worse than he had the other day. He was thinner than he should be, disheveled, and he looked so very tired. After a couple of hours of sitting in silence, Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

"Malfoy," she said, her voice quiet in the silent library.

He looked up at her slowly as if he'd been waiting for her voice. He wore his usual arrogant, apathetic look, but there was something else in his eyes - exhaustion, sadness, something - that pulled at her heartstrings the slightest bit.

"Yes, Granger?" he asked, his drawl as pronounced as ever.

"Can I ask you a question?" She laid her quill down and folded her hands on top of the book she was reading.

"I believe you just did," he said, a hint of a smirk forming on his lips. His smirk was familiar, but unlike other smirks wasn't aimed at her. It was friendly, almost.

Hermoine rolled her eyes and couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. "Alright, well, I'll ask another then." She thought she saw his smirk grow the tiniest bit. "Are you alright?"

His smirk vanished and he went stiff. He sat up straight, chin lifted, and looked down at her. "Why wouldn't I be _alright_?" he asked, an almost-sneer on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She pulled out her wand - she didn't miss the way he flinched at the sight of it, and she wondered why seeing a wand at all would cause such a reaction - and cast a _muffliato._

"What was that?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Muffliato," she said, laying her wand in the crease of her book and covering it with her hands. "Anyone nearby won't hear us."

"Where'd you learn it?" he asked, eyes narrowed, but Hermione only shrugged.

"Now you can answer the question," she said. She'd taken a chance here - that maybe he hadn't answered, because someone might overhear. He stared at her for a long moment, then she saw the muscles in his face relax a little.

"You want to know if I'm alright?" he asked, neutral expression back on his admittedly handsome face.

"That's what I asked," she said, eyebrows raised.

After a long, overly dramatic pause, Malfoy slumped slightly, never breaking eye contact with her. "Honestly, Granger?" He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, then winced at the motion. He tried to brush it back into place. "I'm as far from alright as a wizard can be."

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. She thought back to all the taunts, all the pain, all the tears. Then she looked into his eyes. It was hard to tell from across a table, but she thought there might be a little blue there. In those eyes, she saw fear. She saw sadness. She saw a teenage boy who wanted, maybe who _needed_, someone's help.

She was a Gryffindor, brave and true, and so after her moment of contemplation, she leaned forward, fingers gripping the edge of her book, and said, "How can I help?"

* * *

"The Order?" Malfoy face was red as he paced back and forth in the Room of Requirement. "You've got to be kidding."

"It's the only way," Hermione said, leaning against a desk, arms crossed over her chest. "I can only do so much for you alone."

"I should never have even told _you,_" he said, snarling at her. But she was used to this by now. After weeks of meeting in secret, of giving advice to problems he only halfway was willing to share with her, she was at a loss.

"But you did," she said, scowling at the boy who'd, somewhere along the way, become her friend. "You told me, and now I care about you, and the best way to help you is to go to the Order and seek asylum!"

"You're daft," he said, snarling as he approached her. "Just because you've been stupid enough to decide you care if I live or die, doesn't mean your precious Order will. If anything, they'd take one look at me and decide to use me as leverage. Just like _he _has. I'm an expendable piece in this game, Granger, and we both know it."

Something about these words, this half-truth, set Hermione's heart racing. Malfoy had become something like a friend, and she had grown to care about him, but the idea that Voldemort and his cronies would use him as an expendable pawn caused her chest to constrict painfully.

"The Order wouldn't treat you that way," she said, hating the waver in her voice. She considered Malfoy to be a friend, but she wasn't sure he felt the same and showing weakness in front of him was a sure-fire way to make sure he quit meeting her for help.

"You're delusional," he said from where he'd stopped in front of her a few feet away. "I should never have approached you. Never have told you anything." His shoulders were slouched and he ran both hands through his hair, all pretense of anger gone, replaced with weariness.

"But you did," she said, coming off the desk to stand in front of him.

They weren't the kind of friends who touched, but every now and again, she let herself give in to her instincts and pat his arm. Now, she closed the distance between them and gripped his shoulders. His eyes snapped to hers and he straightened, but she didn't relinquish her grip.

"You asked to sit with me in the library that day for a reason." She squeezed his shoulders and couldn't help but notice and appreciate the tiny flecks of blue nestled into the sea of silvery gray that was his irises.

His breaths were rapid and his fists were clenched. The sudden realization - that perhaps Malfoy didn't want someone with dirty blood to touch him - hit her and she released him, jumping back as if shocked, sure that she'd just ruined whatever bit of friendship they'd cultivated. How could she have been so stupid?

He looked at her, silver and blue eyes wide, and then he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers.

She gasped against his lips and he immediately pulled back, but Gryffindor's weren't known for their bravery, and their impulsiveness, for nothing. Before he could get far, she was kissing him again, arms around his neck, body pressed to his warmly.

His arms slipped around her waist and lifted her just a little so that she wasn't looking up quite so far as their lips danced together in a soft, innocent first kiss.

When the kiss ended, their arms fell away from one another and they each took a step back. They stared at each other, and then a small smile graced Malfoy's lips and Hermione felt one just like it appear on her face as well.

* * *

"They took it better than I thought they would," Hermione said, fingers laced with Draco's, as they strolled along the Black Lake. They'd just told Harry and Ron about their relationship after weeks of sneaking around, after Harry saw Draco in the bathroom, Dark Mark exposed, and nearly killed him with a curse. To make sure they understood, they'd told them everything - all about Draco's task from Voldemort, to spy on Dumbledore and to try and get information about the castle's safeguards. He'd also ben tasked with killing Dumbledore if he found a reasonable opportunity to do so. They told them about how all of this had started - Hermione left out the part where she'd caught Ron and Lavender snogging in an alcove - and about how, after weeks of spending time together, of getting to know one another, they'd realized how they felt.

"Weasley tried to punch me in the face," Draco said, squeezing her fingers. "He broke a vase of Longbottom's obnoxious flowers against a wall."

Hermione laughed and let her fingers run lightly between his, enjoying the feel of his callouses from all his time on a broom. "Like I said, better than I thought they would."

"At least Potter just stood there, red-faced, and sputtered. Not a single word."

"It's the least he could do," Hermione said, indignant. "You spent _days _in the hospital wing after that curse." She slipped under his arm, trusting the reflection charm they used to keep wandering eyes from noticing them. "And I couldn't come see you. Pansy - "

Draco stopped and faced her, hands on her cheeks. "Pansy knows now that she doesn't stand a chance." He stroked her cheeks. "She doesn't know who, obviously, but she knows that another witch has all my attention."

Hermione stepped into him and slipped her arms around his waist, relishing in the feel of his arms - stronger now than they were in weeks past - and inhaling his unique citrusy scent.

"Good," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

* * *

"They hate that I'm here," Draco grumbled from where he sat on the edge of a couch in the Room of Requirement. He'd been part of the Order for weeks now, meeting in the Room of Requirement with members of Dumbledore's Army as well as members of the Order who secretly floo'd in, in the dead of night.

Hermione slipped beside him and took his hand, rubbing her fingers over the back of his hand. "They just don't know you yet," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Harry's come around pretty quickly, and if he has, the others will, too."

"Weasley still looks like he wants to break my face," he mumbled, lips barely moving.

"Can you blame him?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "You were even more horrible to him than you were to me." He winced and she let go of his hand to take his cheeks between her palms. "But you can't be all handsome and charming to apologize to him, so you're just going to have to suck it up." She kissed him to take the sting from her words.

From a few yards away, Ron knocked over a small table and stormed to the other side of the magically enlarged room.

"Tonight's your official introduction," she said, still holding his face. "After this, we can start sneaking you into Gryffindor tower, so you're not stuck having to pretend in the dungeons so much." She kissed him again, lightly. "Harry said you could bunk with them, and you can tell the other Sytherins that you're shacking up with some floozy in Ravenclaw." She smirked.

He leaned his forehead against hers and blocked out the stares and murmurs from around the room. "Or maybe I could bunk with you," he breathed. His eyes were closed, so he didn't see the smile that spread across her face.

"That might be able to be arranged," she said, bumping her nose against his.

* * *

"You need to relax," Hermione whispered into the dark. She ran her nose along his cheek and his arm tightened around her.

"I just keep imagining Weasley bursting in and hexing me in my sleep," he said, kissing the crown of her head.

"First of all, how dare you think I wouldn't haven't already thought of that and warded the room." She pinched his side and he growled low in his throat. "Secondly, Harry wouldn't let him. Believe it or not, Harry understand us. We had a long talk about it last night."

"Even though I know you and Potter are just friends - "

"More like siblings," Hermione countered.

"Fine, siblings. I can't help but feel jealous at the thought of you staying up late with him talking." His voice was low, but Hermione heard every word.

Hermione smiled and scooted so that she could bury her face in the side of his neck. Her hand rested on his stomach - this was more intimate than they'd ever had the chance to be - and she felt him swallow, felt his stubble and warm skin, felt herself shiver slightly.

"I can promise," she said, her breath warm against the skin of his neck, "that you have nothing to be jealous of." He shivered noticeably and she smiled, the softly kissed the soft skin near his shoulder.

"Granger," he growled, and she grinned. He only called her that, now, to make a point. "We should probably just go to sleep."

With a grin, she leaned up and smiled at him in the near dark. "Are you sure?"

"Not even a little bit," he said with a grimace, which made her laugh. "But I figure it'd be bad form to - to not go straight to sleep my first night in your bed." He swallowed and she kissed his cheek.

"Ever the pureblooded gentleman," she said with a smirk.

With a groan, he rolled onto his side and spooned her. She could feel how difficult this was for him - to just go to sleep - as his highly alert body pressed into hers, and she blushed deeply. Never had they done more than kiss, but something about being here, together, lying in bed in the dark, made her question why things hadn't gone farther.

"Just go to sleep," he said, kissing the back of her neck, as if he could hear her thoughts.

She grinned and tightened her hold on his arms around her waist, pressed her back into his chest, her legs into his legs. "Goodnight," she whispered, squeezing his arms.

"Goodnight," he breathed, causing her to shiver.


	7. Chapter 7

**This is the second part of Hermione's recovered memories. Hope the jumps in time are making sense! As always, I love hearing your reviews!**

**Also, a disclaimer, there's a little bit of adult content in this chapter. Nothing overly graphic, but this is why the fic is rated M. Consider yourself warned!**

**Rowling is my queen!**

* * *

"Why are we here?" Draco asked as she led him into the Room of Requirement. "There's no meeting tonight."

"I know," Hermione said, a lovely blush on her cheeks. "I just wanted - " she pushed the door open and stepped inside, nervous as she'd ever been. "I wanted some time with you. Before you go home for Christmas." Just the thought of him leaving for a week, of him going into the house where she was sure You-Know-Who could be at any time, had her so worried she could barely think straight.

Inside the room were candles, a table set up with a lovely silver cloth and covered with a meal fit for any upper-end restaurant. A fire was going in a small fireplace and a faux window looked out over a moonlit night.

Draco looked around the space with a sad grin. He took her hand and led her to the table, then pulled out her chair. "Typically it's the wizard that takes the witch on a date," he said, scooting her chair in for her.

She smirked at him as he sat and leaned forward. "We're not a typical couple, Draco."

"Very true, Hermione." He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Very true."

After dinner, they sat in front of the fire. Draco kissed her softly as they shared stories from their childhoods. For weeks, he'd been sneaking into Gryffindor Tower to sleep beside her, to hold her, but never had things gone further. During the days, they were forced apart - in classes, no eye contact; in the halls, avoidance; at meals, timid peripheral glances that hurt more than they helped. Nights were their only time together.

But never had they done more than kiss. Never had the crossed any unspoken boundaries.

As they lay on a couch in front of the fire now, dinner gone, kissing softly, sharing the most intimate stories from their pasts, Hermione knew she was ready. Ready to share with him how she felt. Ready to share herself with him, completely. She had no doubts.

"Draco," she whispered as his lips caressed her neck. "I need to tell you something."

He sat back, brushing her hair behind her ear, his expression soft. "I have something to tell you, too."

"First of all," Hermione said, pushing herself to sit. Draco followed suit and tugged her against his side. "Did you realize we've been together for nearly four months?"

"I did," he said. "All thanks to you knocking me over in a hallway with your carelessness."

Hermione blushed. "So really, all thanks to _Ron._" She giggled when he groaned. But then, she sobered and clung to him a little more. "You leave for Malfoy Manor tomorrow," she said.

He nodded and pulled her closer.

"Before you leave," she took a deep breath and turned so that she could inhale the citrusy smell that was his. She put her hand on his chest and her cheek on his shoulder and breathed deeply. "Before you leave, I needed you to know - "

"I love you," he said, and she squeezed her eyes shut as tears immediately sprang up. "I love you, Hermione." His voice was low and she felt a laugh combined with a sob well up.

"I love you, too," she said as she gripped the fabric of his shirt. "It's what I was going to say. _First._"

He laughed and kissed her hair, then gently tilted her face up so he could see her. "I know."

She smiled as tears fell from her eyes and then gently smacked his chest. "Prat."

"But a prat you love," he said, face and voice soft.

She smiled and leaned up to press her lips to his, catching his bottom lip between both of hers. "Definitely a prat I love."

She kissed him again, lingering against his lips, and it was quickly evident that something had changed. Their kiss was deep and full of emotion. Full of love. Full of something pent up that needed to be released.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Hermione asked against his lips. The more they stayed together, the riskier it was, but still he nodded, and Hermione felt electric excitement well in her stomach.

* * *

Back in her dorm, snuck in under a disillusionment charm, Draco looked at Hermione and Hermione looked at Draco, and the heat between them was palpable.

"Ready to go to sleep?" Draco asked as he faced her in the moonlight. The rest of her housemates were already in bed, curtains drawn, silencing charms up.

Hermione took a deep breath. "No," she whispered.

Draco's breaths grew quicker, but he nodded and offered her his hand. She took it and together, they made their way to her bed.

Curtains were pulled. Charms were cast - no one could open the curtains or hear anything. And they sat, each on their knees, facing each other.

"We can just go to sleep," Draco said, hands in fists at his sides as if he were trying to keep himself from touching her.

"I don't want to go to sleep," Hermione whispered, a stray curl resting against the side of her face. He reached up and tucked it behind her ear. "I love you," she breathed.

"I love you," he said back.

She reached for him and he reached for her, and they moved on their knees so that they met in the middle of the bed.

His hands went to her waist and hers went to the back of his neck. And when his lips met hers, she felt like, for the first time in her life, she was _exactly _where she was supposed to be.

Slowly, almost lazily, they peeled layers of clothes from each other. Never had Hermione been this intimate with someone. She'd kissed Krum a few times, but that was it. But somehow, in spite of her inexperience, she wasn't afraid. She wasn't worried. She wasn't second-guessing this at all.

When they were down to their underthings, they stopped. Hermione let her hands trail over his chest and trace his scar - the one her best friend had given him. She met his eyes, but he only smiled. His hands ran down her arms and back up. He cupped her face. Every touch of his fingertips caused her heart to race.

Knowing he wouldn't want to push her, she reached back and unhooked her bra, gently discarding it. His breath caught, and after a moment, he looked down at her exposed chest. For a moment, she fought the urge to cover herself in embarrassment, then his eyes met hers - molten silver flecked with blue - and the heat there gave her the confidence to kiss him again.

He groaned against her mouth and gripped her waist. While he kissed her, she slipped her hands down his waist and shimmied his boxers from his hips. She felt his manhood spring free and pressed her belly against his. His hands trailed down her sides and slipped her knickers down and she shivered in the sudden, cool air.

"We can stop, if - "

Hermione cut him off with a bruising kiss. She gripped his hair and his fingers dug into her sides. Slowly, together, they lay down.

His weight on top of her was warm. Tentatively, she hooked on foot behind his knee and he groaned into her mouth.

"Hermione," he said, pushing himself up to tower over her. She wanted to lean up, to kiss the scar that she knew still hurt sometimes. So she did. Her lips pressed against the faded-red flesh, and when she lay back down, the expression on his face was unguarded and pure. If she hadn't believed that he loved her - which she had - his look would have erased any doubts. She looked up at him, at the broad expanse of his pale chest with the canopy of her bed as a backdrop and her breath caught.

With hands that were steady, she reached up and held his face. She pulled his lips to hers, and slowly, so slowly it made her ache, he slipped inside her.

* * *

"What do you mean _they know _you're friends with her_?_" Ron bellowed, cornering Draco in the Room of Requirement. It was their first meeting back after Christmas, and Draco had dropped a bomb. Somehow, word had gotten back around to his family that Draco had somewhat befriended Hermione. A muggleborn. A _mudblood. _

"They don't know anything else," Draco said, standing his ground. Ron nearly growled as he grabbed him by the shirt.

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled, shoving past other people to get between them. She wedged herself against Draco and shoved Ron with both hands. "Stop! You're being ridiculous."

"He's going to get you killed, Hermione," Ron ground out. "And if it weren't for him, you and I, we could have - "

"Could have what?" Hermione shrieked, not caring that the whole of the Order was silent and watching. "Could have maybe dated one day? After you tired of Lavender? Could have given it a go?" Her face was white and her hands were balled into fists. "You're one of my best friends, Ron. But Draco is not the reason we aren't together. You are."

The room was silent.

"Then let me fix it," Ron said, taking Hermione's balled-up fist. Behind her, Draco was still and quiet. "I was stupid before, with Lav. I should have seen - just, give me a chance, 'Mione."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, then slowly pulled her hand from his. "I'm not with Draco, because I can't be with you, Ron." She took a step back, hand reached toward him, and Draco immediately slipped his larger fingers through her smaller ones. "I'm with him because I love him. Your trysts with Lavender may have opened the door for me to see him, to have the opportunity to give him a chance, but it's not why I'm with him still."

"He's poisoned you against me," Ron said with a snarl, and Hermione's expression hardened.

"You only hear what you want to hear, Ronald. Always have." She stepped back toward Draco as he stepped in closer to her.

"This whole thing is bloody ridiculous," Ron spat, then turned and shoved through the crowd. Before he left the room, though, he called back. "Oi! Malfoy! You're going to get her hurt, or killed, and when you do, I'll take care of you myself." And then he was gone, door slamming behind him on the way out.

"What do they know, exactly?" Harry asked into the new silence, ever the voice of reason. Slowly, the individual groups split off to practice different defensive spells and complete various training exercises set up by Moody and McGonnagal.

Draco sighed. "They know I study with her sometimes. After Potions. We made sure to only do it on projects we'd been assigned together, but - " he looked at Hermione, his face screwed up as if in pain, "but that would be enough to make her a target. I've been too nice, and they've noticed."

"Who's _they_?" Harry asked as Hermione slipped her arms around Draco's middle and gave him a squeeze.

"Pansy, maybe. Or Crabbe and Goyle. Father didn't tell me. He just said I'd been seen with her." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Hermione said, looking up at him from where she stood pressed against him. "We'll just have to be more careful."

"Hermione - " he said, but he knew by now, as did Harry, that when Hermione had her mind to something, there was no changing it.

"No," she said, voice adamant. "We'll be more careful. You'll throw some insults at me in the hallways. We can avoid each other more, so there's no need for as many altercations." She took a deep breath through her nose. "Dumbledore owled. He's found, and destroyed, two more horcruxes. Once they're all gone, we can be done with this."

"You're still feeding them false information?" Harry asked, then pushed his glasses higher on his nose.

Draco nodded. "They think Dumbledore is in Ireland," he said. "They don't know he's still in London. It sent them on a fun little chase. And since I'm getting my information from listening in on secret conversations, they won't think I fed them false intel when it's wrong."

"Good," Harry said. "Good." He looked at Hermione, wrapped around Draco's middle, and nodded. He clapped Malfoy on the shoulder. "I'm glad we're on the same side, finally," he said.

Draco managed a lopsided smile. "Me too, Potter."

After Harry walked away, Draco sagged. "I probably shouldn't stay with you anymore," he said, leaning so that his lips were against her temple, his words right beside her ear. He sighed and the small hairs on her cheek tickled her. "To be safe."

"Won't that make them more suspicious?" Hermione asked, feeling her heart break a little. "If you stop out of the blue?"

She looked up at him and he couldn't help but lean down and kiss her. They tried not to in front of others, mostly because of reactions like Ron's, but he couldn't help it and she didn't stop him.

"One more night," he said against her lips. "Then my _secret Ravenclaw girlfriend _and I will probably have an epic breakup, resulting in me smashing a few things in the Slytherin commons."

Hermione grinned cheekily. "And what will cause this epic breakup?" she asked. He kissed her cheek, then smirked.

"Well, and you may not have known this about my secret Ravenclaw girlfriend, but she had been pushing me to be friends with bookworm extraordinaire, Hermione Granger, which is why I'd been spending so much time with her lately," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, really? And this caused you to breakup?" she asked, smile wide on her face.

"Oh, no. But that _is _why I studied with this Granger girl, some," he said nodding. "No, we had to break up because my secret Ravenclaw girlfriend was actually in _love _with Hermione Granger."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. "You realize, in this scenario, I"m the secret Ravenclaw girlfriend, and that would mean I'm in love with myself, right?"

"Don't think about it too hard," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "What my secret Ravenclaw girlfriend doesn't realize, though, is that I'm in love with Hermione Granger, too."

At this, Hermione grinned. She lifted onto her toes and pressed her nose to his. "The feeling is mutual."

* * *

"I can't do this," Hermione said, nearly hyperventilating.

The school year was coming to a close, and ever since Christmas, she and Draco had seen each other only at Order meetings, not willing to risk someone seeing. Someone telling.

And now, days before the end of term, they'd gotten news that Draco was to be pulled into the Death Eater ranks when summer began. Which meant no contact. No contact at all. All summer.

"You'll be off with Potter and Weasley anyway," he said, sitting in the Room of Requirement on the edge of a table while she paced nearby. "We couldn't have owled if we wanted."

"We could have - " she stopped, fear choking her. "We could have done something." She stopped, breaths coming short.

"Listen," he said, voice cracking, and her head snapped up, her eyes wide and fearful at the sound of his voice. "Maybe it's a good idea if we just, while things are OK, end - "

"No!" she said, anger coloring her words. "No, don't you dare say it." She stomped toward him, shaking with anger and fear. "You're mine and I'm yours. That's all there is to it. And I'll be damned if I let anything change that."

"Weasley's right - "

"Just stop!" she shouted.

"But he is!" Draco shouted back, coming off the table and getting in her face. "Being with me is dangerous. With _this _\- " he shoved his sleeve up and pointed to the mark - still red and inflamed even after months of having it. "On my arm! I've been a selfish git all school year." He closed his eyes and his chest heaved. When he opened his eyes, he cupped her face. "You are the best thing that's happened to me in my whole life. But maybe - maybe I don't deserve you." He stroked her cheeks, calloused thumbs comforting against her skin. "Maybe this time with you is more than I ever was supposed to have."

"What a stupid thing to say," she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning into his hands. "I don't care what you're supposed to have, because I know what _you and I_ are meant to have." She gripped his hands where they rested on her cheeks. "Until you, I didn't know what happiness was." Tears leaked from her eyes. "Before you, I never felt like I fit in. But now, whenever I'm with you, I'm home."

Draco closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I'm yours, and you're mine. OK? We'll have to figure out some other way to keep us both safe."

With a sigh, Draco nodded.

* * *

The night before the term ended, Hermione and Draco stood facing one another beneath the stars near the Black Lake. Tears poured down Hermione's face and her hands shook almost uncontrollably.

"Are you sure there's no other way?" she asked, looking up at the man she loved in the moonlight.

"We've exhausted every other option," he said. "You know that." He searched her face with his eyes as if trying to memorize it. "This is how we stay together."

Hermione took a deep breath through her nose. "Walk me through it again," she said. They were centimeters apart, and he held both of her hands in his. A ways back - far enough away that they couldn't hear, but close enough to keep the couple disillusioned and safe - stood Harry and Ron.

Draco held her hands and rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. "We take your memories - the ones of me and you - and store them in this pendant." He held up a necklace, one he'd gotten for her as a Christmas gift, and it glinted in the moonlight. "I wear it and keep it safe, every single day, until we can be together again. Then, I give all your memories back." He grinned sadly. "And we live happily ever after."

"I still think it's dangerous. What if they see _your _memories?" She gripped his fingers tightly in hers.

"I'm an occlumens," he said with a smirk. "They won't see anything I don't want them to."

"I don't want to forget us," she said, gripping his hands and looking up at him in the moonlight.

"It'll only be for a little while," he said, letting go of her hand to brush her hair back. "This is the only way to keep you safe. If you don't remember me, you won't be tempted to do something foolish and brave to save me from You-Know-Who. And if I know you're not going to come after me, if I know you're safe, I'll be able to focus. To gather information for the Order."

"I don't want to forget us," she whispered again, tears dripping down her face like spring rain.

"I'll keep all our memories safe," he said, stepping in close. "They won't be gone, just - just stored somewhere else for a while." His nose brushed her cheek. "I'll keep them safe, keep you safe, until this is over," he breathed, and she shivered.

Leaning back slightly, Draco looked over her shoulder at Harry and Ron. Harry stood, pointedly looking away, and Draco thought that maybe there were a few tears in his overly green eyes, but Ron was scowling. "Your friends will keep you safe, too," he said, swallowing heavily.

"Draco - " she sobbed, and he looked at her. "Will you kiss me?"

He smiled, sadly, and gently laid his lips on hers. She smelled citrus. His hands on her cheeks were warm and solid. When he pulled away, too soon, her heart began to race. His nose brushed hers and she didn't miss the tears in his eyes.

His eyes were bright silver in the moonlight and flecked with those little specks of dark blue. It was like looking at the starry sky behind him, but in reverse.

"I love you," she said, and he leaned toward her, his lips almost touching the shell of her ear.

"I love you," he said.

And then she felt the tip of his wand touch her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the feel of his hands, his breath, his heartbeat as she heard him whisper, "Abscisus," and everything faded to black.

* * *

**One chapter left, everyone! Maybe an epilogue at some point, or a few other scene snippets, but only one real chapter left.**

**Thanks for sticking with me on this!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Last official chapter, everyone! Thanks for sticking with me through this little mini-fic! I'm so thrilled with how much some of you have enjoyed it. I don't usually write angst and suspense, so this was stepping out on a major limb for me, and your response has been so, so encouraging.**

**There _may _be some sort of epilogue after this, at some point, but I'm not sure yet. Thanks for everything, dear readers!**

**And, as always, Rowling is my queen.**

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes. The sun was warm. Draco's hand in hers was sweaty. Her face was soaked with tears.

She remembered. She remembered _everything_.

She looked at him and his face was as easy to read as a book. He was afraid, and he loved her.

"Things _have _changed," she said, and he started to pull away, but she wasn't having it. "Draco, I've fallen in love with you twice now. Once before you took my memories away, and again after. Which means - " she took his face in her hands, "that you are stuck with me, no matter what. Forever."

The smile that stretched across his face filled her up. She kissed him and he laughed against her lips.

But when she pulled away, his smile quickly fell. He ducked his head and his hair fell in his eyes. "There's more, though. Memories that aren't yours that weren't in the pendant. Things you should know."

"The deal you made with Ron?" she asked. He nodded, and when he met her gaze, his eyes were filled with guilt. "Tell me," she whispered.

Draco took a deep breath.

"You'll be mad," he said, leaning away just a little. "But just know that - that I would never do anything if I thought it would hurt you. All I want is what's best for you."

"You're scaring me," she said, tightening her grips on his hands. No wonder he'd felt so comfortable, so familiar, before. Even without her memories, her heart had known him, had recognized him. Whatever he said now, that wouldn't change.

He looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her. How could she ever have forgotten the feeling of his lips? Even with magic, how had she ever lived without that knowledge in her brain.

It was strange. She remembered all of their story. All their kisses, the moments of intimacy, their arguments. But she also remembered the time between that night when her memories were removed and now. She remembered being with Ron and Harry, ignorant of the truth. In all that time, she'd felt like something was missing, and now she knew that her soul, her heart, had missed him.

He pulled back from her and cleared his throat." After we put your memories in the necklace, you were disoriented. Out of it. Potter took you back to Gryffindor tower to sleep. Watching you go was the hardest thing I've ever done." He adjusted his grip on her hands. "Then, Weasley - " he cleared his throat and looked right into her eyes. "Weasley and I had a chat. And he - he convinced me that you were better off without me."

Hermione jerked back, anger etched into her face.

"I'm not proud of it," Draco said defensively, assuming her anger was directed at him. "But you have to understand - " he tightened his grip on her hands as if she might pull them away. "You have to understand, at that point, you didn't know me. Not anymore. You could have gone on with your life, never knowing about us, and wound up blissfully happy without the weight of - of being with me on your shoulders." She started to pull her hands away, but he held tight. "But I _couldn't let you go,_" he said, voice raised. "He told me all these things - devastating truths - that made me wish I _could _let you go. Reminded me of all the pain I'd caused you. Of all the times I'd called you that name. Then he reminded me how much he loved you, of how he'd been there for you years before I even would give you a look that wasn't angry." He took a deep breath through his nose. "But as selfish as it was, I couldn't let you go." His eyes filled with tears and her anger slowly faded. "He punched me in the face when I told him I couldn't let you go," he said with a mirthless laugh.

"I remember," she said, surprising herself. "Just before the end of sixth year. You had a black eye." She softened her hands and let herself hold onto his fingers.

"You remember that?"

She nodded, face screwed up. "I remember feeling strange that last day of school. In classes that last day, during meals, my eyes kept drifting to you. I wondered how you'd been hurt. But once I realized that I was actively seeking you out in groups, I made myself stop. Because you were _Draco Malfoy,_ and I wasn't supposed to care about your life." She smiled. "It was hard to keep my eyes off you, though. It was so confusing."

"Well," he said, smiling in spite of himself. "Weasley punched me, so now you know how I got that black eye. But after he punched me, we talked, and we made a deal." He took a deep breath, smile suddenly gone. His hand spasmed in hers. "Until you got your memories back, we agreed that he could try to show you that _he_ was who you were supposed to love. And until Voldemort was dead, until the war was over, I couldn't intervene in your life." His voice was scratchy.

Hermione was still for a long moment. The necklace on her neck was warm, a pleasant weight against her sternum. Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped.

"Are you going to say anything?" he asked after a long moment, voice breaking. He'd been afraid this new information would change things.

She stood then, anger coursing through her veins. A righteous fury that fueled her despite her physical and emotional exhaustion.

"Hermione?" he asked, standing with her, confused and afraid. "Please, talk to me. Say something."

"I'm going to talk to Ronald-bloody-Weasley to set a few things straight," she growled. The look on her face was one that didn't allow room for argument or questions.

* * *

When Hermione and Draco walked into the Great Hall, where the majority of injuries were being treated, all eyes turned toward them. She re-took Draco's hand - she'd let it go during her indignant march toward the castle doors - and held it tightly. In her periphery, she saw a few people grin.

"She's wearing the necklace," she heard Neville say from the side. "She's got her memories back."

"That's lovely," Luna replied in her airy sort of way. "But you know, she never truly forgot."

Hermione spared a glance at the two, finally unsurprised by Luna's often confusing wisdom, but she couldn't stop. At the moment, there was someone else she needed to speak with.

She heard Ron before she saw him. He was yelling at Harry. Yelling about her, about Draco. She squeezed Draco's hand so hard he winced. She would give Ronald Bilius Weasley something to yell about.

She stormed through the crowd. He was sitting on a bench, leg bandaged, face red as he yelled at Harry for enabling Draco to corrupt her.

"You should have helped me!" he bellowed. "Should have helped convince her that it's me she wants! But you just sat back and did nothing."

"It was her decision to make," Harry said, his voice tired. "Even when her memories were gone, it was easy to see - " Harry stopped when Hermione stormed past him, pulling Draco in her wake. Harry's eyes went wide as he stepped aside.

When Ron saw her, holding Draco's hand, his face screwed up in anger and he opened his mouth to speak.

Hermione let go of Draco's hand. Then, she slapped him.

Hard.

The sound echoed throughout the Great Hall and all voices went quiet. Ron looked up at her, expression still angry, so she slapped him again.

"How _dare _you," she said through gritted teeth. She took a step forward and got right in his face. "_How_ _dare you._"

"What did he tell you?" Ron asked, face screwed up in pain and anger. "What lies has he infected you with now?"

"He told me you wanted a chance to be with me," she said, standing straight, hands in fists at her hips. "He said you told him to let me truly forget all about him." She gritted her teeth. "He said you tried to convince him that I was better off _without_ him."

"That's because you _are!_" he said, face blooming red where her hand struck him. "Besides, he _agreed_ to it!" Ron bellowed, coming off the bench to stand, foot hobbled. "What does that say about him? About how he feels about you?" He pointed an accusatory finger at Draco. "That he'd so easily agree to cut you out of his life?"

Hermione got in his face again, her hair crackling with angry magic. "It says that he was thinking of what was best for me," she said. Something in her eyes must have frightened Ron, because he leaned back slightly. "It says that even though he loved me, even though the choice we made to be apart only hurt _him_ during that time, he was willing to give me a shot at what _you_ convinced him would make me happy."

"Then he went and decided to be selfish and hang on to you! Even though you remembered nothing," he ground out between his teeth. "You say he was doing it for you? Then why didn't he agree to keep those memories forever and let you live your life? With me?"

"_Because he loved me!_" she screamed. "He _knew_ what was best for me was to be with _him_, even if we had to wait. Even if _he _had to be alone, and frightened, and in danger for a year." Her voice broke and took a step back. "You were supposed to be my _friend,_" she whispered, staring at him as if he were a stranger.

Ron opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Hermione turned to Harry. "I remember," she said, meeting his eyes. "All those nights on the hunt when I would cry, and I tell you that I just felt empty, that I didn't know why I was crying. When you would sit with me. I remember. You said you understood, and now I know - you really did." She reached out and he reached out and for a moment their hands clasped. "Thank you."

Harry looked at her, and then at Draco. "You make each other better," he said, pointedly ignoring Ron. "You deserve to be happy."

Hermione squeezed his hand, then let it go. She turned to Draco, who was watching her, his face a false mask of neutrality. Beneath the mask she saw his relief, his insecurity, his worry. "Draco," she said. "Can we go?" she asked.

"Hermione," Ron said, his voice breaking, but she kept her eyes on Draco.

Draco looked over her shoulder at Ron, then over at Harry, who gave him a nod. Finally, he looked back at her and exhaled softly. She extended her hand. He took it, and with a spin and a crack, they were gone.

* * *

"Why are we back here?" Draco asked as they landed in the small shack where they'd healed each other's injuries less than 24 hours before.

In the daylight, the little cabin wasn't so bad. A small cot, a desk, a few tables and odds and ends.

Hermione took a deep breath. "You saved my life." Her hand in his was soft and she tugged him toward the stool that still stood in the middle of the room where he'd sat for her to heal his cuts. "Then you trusted me to heal your wounds, and bound up my ribs." She faced him. "You got me on a broom, then kept me safe on it." She pushed him onto the stool and stepped into the space between his legs. "I didn't know about us. I didn't know _you,_ not relaly. But even then, even those first few moments just after you saved me when I thought of you as _Malfoy_, there was _something_. Something that made me want to be near you." She reached one hand up and rested her fingertips against his cheek, against the blonde stubble there.

Draco closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"You took away my memories, but you could never - " she put her other hand on the side of his face, "never take away how much, how deeply, I love you." Her voice broke and the breath she took stuttered. "That goes so much deeper than my mind." She picked up his hand and put it on her sternum, just below where the sun and moon pendant rested. "It's in every part of who I am."

"I've missed you," he breathed as he slid his hand down her stomach and encircled her waist with his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Even though I didn't realize it, I've missed you, too." She leaned her face down so there was hardly any space between them. "So much."

He kissed her then. It was the sort of kiss that's soft and slow, unhurried. The sort of kiss that speaks soft things without words. The sort of kiss that warms you from your toes to the top of your head like a soothing, warm fire.

With that kiss, all the feelings of the last year - of running, of feeling like something, some vital part of herself, was missing, of feeling afraid and unsettled and sad - vanished. In a single kiss was the promise of so much more. A promise of a life free of hiding, a life free of secrets, a life free of pain. In that kiss was the promise of a love that goes so much deeper than memories, but instead rests in the very bones of those who get to live it.

* * *

**Well, that's a wrap! The fic ended up being a little less M-rated than I initially thought it would, but I'm happy with it! I hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks SO MUCH for reading!**

**I may be including an epilogue (of sorts) later. But it'll be a while. For now, I hope you enjoyed it! THANK YOU!**


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